


Interlude

by lyryk (s_k)



Series: Like Wind in My Sails [1]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-08
Updated: 2008-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young James Norrington has a tryst with an anonymous lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> This is chapter 10 of a longer story arc, but can be read as a stand-alone scene.

Lieutenant James L. Norrington of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, all of eighteen years of age, has just been made love to for the first time.

 _Making love._ A phrase he had only heard and read of before this night, before this night when the words came to life like nothing even remotely resembling what he had imagined. Certainly never in his imagination would he have considered that he would ‘make love’ for the first time in a narrow, darkened alley next to the docks, the cool, salty air of the Caribbean enveloping his almost fully-clothed body and the lithe form of the man behind him, their bodies joined together at the hips. James rests his damp forehead against his forearm as his splayed fingers finally stop tearing at the gritty brick wall in front of him. Their combined breaths return at last to a moderately regular rhythm, his lover’s right hand still gently holding James’s spent cock, his other hand caressing James’s chest beneath his shirt slowly, almost soothingly. 

His anonymous lover moves his oil-slicked thumb gently over the hypersensitive length of his softening cock in a final, tender caress, pulling out of James’s body with a slow, careful movement; his arms tighten securely around James as an overwhelming shudder runs through the young lieutenant’s body. 

‘Sshh, love. Sshh,’ a warm, pleasurably low voice murmurs against his ear. A musky breath that is a heady combination of rum, tobacco and just a hint of a piquant spice – clove? cinnamon? – drifts over his exposed throat, his cravat hanging loosely around his neck, tugged free by strong, graceful fingers during their fucking to allow a scorching mouth to feast tenderly on the vulnerable skin there. Warm, wet, parted lips nuzzle against the nape of his bare neck as hands move to his waist and slide down to pull his breeches up from where they have been held by his spread-apart thighs. His shirt is tucked carefully back into his waistband and deft fingers lace up the front of his breeches; that thrillingly balmy voice that had been urging him towards his release with indescribably sensual obscenities during the heat of their passion sounds in his ear again, far more composed now. ‘What’s your name, lad?’ 

Supple arms wrap around his waist, holding him close to the warm body behind him, and James lets out a quiet sigh of utter gratification as he lets his head rest back against a steady shoulder. ‘James,’ he murmurs, surprising himself by being able to speak.

‘James,’ the smooth tongue repeats after him, as if tasting his name the way it has intimately tasted his body. ‘You’re lovely, James,’ the stranger says softly, his lips against James’s ear. The lips travel down, pressing a kiss at the side of his throat. James wants very badly to say something, but his voice seems to be caught somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He feels lips curve into a smile against the hollow beneath his ear before his lover slides down against him to retrieve the small, stoppered bottle of oil from the ground, one hand resting for a moment on the back of James’s knee. He presses a last kiss to the small of James’s back before he straightens again, taking a step backward so that their bodies are no longer touching. ‘Will you find your way back to your ship all right?’ the stranger asks.

James nods, still leaning a hand against the wall, a tingling warmth still echoing pleasantly throughout his body, half-turning his head to speak. ‘I’ll be fine, sir.’

‘Captain, lad. Captain—just Captain.’ A hand clasps his shoulder in the darkness and squeezes briefly, and he looks down at it in the moment that the alley is illuminated briefly by the slow sweep of the beam of light from the great lamp of the lighthouse somewhere behind them. He captures the briefest of glimpses at a brown wrist, a worn thread wrapped around it, a tiny, exquisite jade pendant hanging from it. The shining green of the stone holds his sight captive for a second, reflecting almost exactly the colour of his own eyes. He blinks for an instant and it is gone, and all he can make out is what appears to be a figurine with a tiny, outstretched arm. 

The hand on his shoulder tightens a little, the man behind him taking a breath, as if on the verge of saying something. Then he lets out a quiet sigh and the hand moves to rest briefly on the back of James’s head. A last touch, the steady hand caressing his hair; a last phrase, spoken with a curious tenderness: ‘Fare thee well, Jim.’ 

A crunch of boots on stone, the sound of retreating footsteps, and his enigmatic lover is swallowed by the night before James can respond. ‘And you, Captain,’ he says softly into the silent night, before retrieving his discarded wig from the ground and striding out of the alley; a smile playing around his lips, his ears still half-believing they can hear the faint resonance of receding footfalls in the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Resume reading 'Like Wind in My Sails': [Chapter 11](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2068086/chapters/4532406)


End file.
